


the good intentions that you had (now only came to this)

by bloodredcherries



Series: bouquet of clumsy words (a simple melody) [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodredcherries/pseuds/bloodredcherries
Summary: Alice had decided (roughly around the time that she’d counted the sleeping bags) that she was never allowed to delve into the world of the semi-functional ever again, not as long as FP Jones and Fred Andrews were around to make questionable choices that filled her with rage. So, she drew in a deep breath and tried very hard to remember her quest to Do Better. To undo the damage that Hal had caused. To not murder her daughter’s boyfriend’s father. All important goals that Alice Cooper had decided upon. It was nice that FP and Forsythia were communicating again. Even Alice could see this was a positive thing.(In which Alice Cooper decides that the path to redemption starts at the house next door.)





	1. this time i'll get it right

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'apple shampoo' by blink182

Alice Cooper had decided that her life falling apart was  _ unacceptable _ just because her sanctimonious jackass of an estranged husband had been revealed as the least successful serial killer she had had the grand misfortune of knowing. Wallowing was for hippopotamuses, or perhaps pigs on a farm, and was not something with which Alice Cooper wanted to be associated. She had had her two weeks of pity and reaching into the depths of a wine bottle (and found them very satisfactory, thank you very much) before she had forced herself to reconcile to her new reality, and not spend out the majority of her days being waited on by Elizabeth and entertaining Margaret’s insane ideas that she and Elizabeth move out to the farm with her. She had thought that Polly was in San Francisco, anyways. 

 

Still, just because she was glad to be rid of Harold, and decided that she wasn’t to blame for his actions, didn’t mean that Alice wasn’t painfully aware of the fact that she had developed a sense of notoriety that she did not approve of. Ruling the Northside by fear was acceptable by her, of course. It had been for years, and she did not plan on stopping, just because of some pesky...issues with the man whom she’d had the misfortune to marry. She had, however, noticed that the current of fear and awe that she craved had been...undermined by the fact that the Black Hood had replaced Jason Blossom as the source of gossip that the masses of Riverdale focused on, rather than paying any whit of attention to the town’s actual issues, of which there were numerous. The simpleton residents of Riverdale preferred the shininess of serial killers that were in jail, and dead children of maple syrup mavericks, to actually dealing with the town’s problems. 

 

It was a problem that she had noticed years ago, of course. Her articles about the evils of the Southside had sold the most of the papers, because it appealed to the lazy, common denominator of their readership: Northsider simpletons who wanted something easy to blame. It was just...demoralizing to see that Hiram Lodge was exploiting the simpletons to  _ evade _ the citizens of Riverdale ever clueing in to the fact that he was a warlord criminal who wanted to turn the town into his personal crime haven. 

 

Alice Cooper decided that the path to redemption starts at the house next door, where her husband’s first victim is trying to run for mayor. 

 

It wasn’t mere happenstance that Alice’s path to redemption had started at the house next door, where one Fred Andrews was running for Mayor. While it was true that Alice found his campaign promises to be overly-optimistic, she had decided that friendly Fred was the only hope that Riverdale had if it wanted to avoid becoming a giant headache. 

 

And, honestly, that article that Hiram and Hermione wanted to print in the Register was offensive to her in  _ many _ ways, even if Alice ignored the hideous abuses of grammar and the English language and judged solely on content. Alice did not like limiting how she judged, however, so she certainly wasn’t going to start on behalf of the Lodges. 

 

She rang the doorbell, and attempted to wait patiently for someone to answer. There were signs of life in the Andrewses’ home, she could hear people’s voices, though they were unfortunately too quiet for her to hear. She was turning over a new leaf, anyways. Yes, the world was going to be met by a new Alice. A kinder Alice. And, in turn, the new Alice would induce fear in the hearts of man. 

 

She was sure that nice, kind, Alice would send chills of fear down people’s spines. 

 

Perhaps, then, they would learn not to photograph her and her children while trampling her rose bushes. 

 

But, for the moment, she fixed a bright, sunny, smile on her face, determined to greet Fred with cheery kindness. Except, for the fact that the person who opened the door  _ wasn’t  _ Fred, her self-assigned saviour of Riverdale. 

 

“Alice?” The person on the other side of the door said, and she blinked at him in confusion. 

 

“Jonesy?” The old nickname slipped out before she could stop it, and she cocked her head slightly, a decision she regretted when she realized her neck still couldn’t do that. “FP, I mean. What are you doing here?” 

 

He cracked his gum. “We’re living here now,” he said, after a moment. “Ghoulies are trashing the trailer park, that Lodge bastard took over the Wyrm, I was willing to let those slide,” he allowed. “Then the trailer park caught on fire. I thought maybe Red had a point in offering us a safe house here.”

 

Alice raised a brow. “You were willing to let...when did this all  _ happen _ my God, FP, why didn’t you say anything?” She shouldered past him and entered the house. “Can you clarify what you mean by ‘we’re’?” Fred’s living room was littered with sleeping bags -- including several of her own, from an ill fated attempt of family bonding (another half assed idea of Harold’s) -- and there was entirely too much detrius for two teenage boys (Archibald and Jughead) and one additional adult male. “Surely you aren’t implying that you’ve moved  _ all  _ of the Serpents into Fred and Mary’s house?”

 

“Kind of figured that you were occupied,” he admitted softly. “You know, figured your problems trumped mine. Scared off a few reporters for you, though. I don’t think they’ll be back.” 

 

Alice rolled her eyes. It flattered her that FP thought that a soft tone and vague platitudes could distract her from her latest bit of investigative reporting, but she would not be dissuaded from figuring out the truth by indulging his latest display of manliness. No matter how much she appreciated it. 

 

“You didn’t answer my question, Forsythe,” she said, gazing at him with disappointed eyes. “I’m assuming that would be because the answer is ‘yes, Alice, Fred and I decided that the best route of action would be to house at least six teenagers on his living room floor, rather than embrace the tiniest bit of intellectual thoughts’,” she sighed. “Pity me for being married to that imbecile all you want. But, generally speaking, ‘help me Alice Cooper I am in charge of a thousand homeless teenagers’ does trump ‘poor Alice, what a shame about Hal’.” 

 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he agreed. “Betty didn’t tell you?” 

 

“Elizabeth thinks that I am the equivalent of a china doll, or a Tiffany lamp,” she snarked. “Plus, she doesn’t like to tell me things,” she admitted. “She probably thought that I would use it against her...is that why she’s been having me cook things?” 

 

“Fred, you know, he’s not that great a -- “

 

“This is not acceptable,” she decided. “I refuse to allow any of these impressionable youths to move back into a burnt out, smoldering, trailer park, and I am not going to allow them to attempt to move into a potentially occupied dive bar. I also cannot let them sleep on the Andrewses’ floor for an eternity. I am also not allowing you to partake in any of the above,” she added. “So don’t even think about getting any ideas.” She pursed her lips. “Please at least tell me that you have your son and Fangs Fogarty on something more  _ conducive  _ to recovery than a hardwood floor.” FP gaped at her, but seemed suddenly incapable of a response. “Well? Answer me. And where is Fred?”   
  


“They’ve been sharing Archie’s room,” he said after a moment. “Alternating between the bed and a cot bed.” He sighed. “Fred is probably at work, Alice, it is the middle of the day, and he does have a job. I was just talking to JB.” 

 

Alice had decided (roughly around the time that she’d counted the sleeping bags) that she was never allowed to delve into the world of the semi-functional ever again, not as long as FP Jones and Fred Andrews were around to make questionable choices that filled her with rage. So, she drew in a deep breath and tried very hard to remember her quest to Do Better. To undo the damage that Hal had caused. To not murder her daughter’s boyfriend’s father. All important goals that Alice Cooper had decided upon. It was nice that FP and Forsythia were communicating again. Even Alice could see this was a positive thing. 

 

Except. “Forsythia is here?” 

 

“Showed up at the house this morning,” he said. “Her mother got arrested.” 

 

“Pray tell, how did Forsythia get here from Toledo, FP? And what caused Gladys to find herself behind bars?” 

 

“Her grandparents sent her on the bus,” he shrugged. “Something about...well, I don’t know actually. Going on Chopped? Wasn’t really listening when she told me.” Alice scowled. Gleaning information from FP was like trying to get blood from a stone. “Hey, JB!” He called out. “What the hell is your mother up to? Come say hello to our guest!”

 

“She’s been running a chop shop, Dad,” a bored voice replied, and Alice peered in the direction that it came from. “Hi, Mrs. C.” 

 

“You can just call me Alice, Forsythia,” she said. “I was not aware you were returning to Riverdale.” She smiled sweetly at the younger girl. “I brought some cupcakes, if you’d like them.” The cupcakes had been a bribe for Fred, but she felt it fitting to share with his new houseguest. “You must be excited to spend time with your father.” 

 

Jellybean nodded, as she readied herself to slide down the banister. Alice cringed. 

 

“I will summons Fred here,” she said after a moment. “You cannot have your ten year old daughter living in this house with all of these teenage boys. It is unsuitable. I mean. Granted, it is world’s better than the poor girl living in a chop shop…come stay with us.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Do you have cable?”

 

“It’s just myself and Elizabeth in that giant house,” she pointed out. “There would be actual beds for the children. Forsythia could have Margaret’s room.” She paused. “Yes, Forsythia, we have cable.”

 

“Polly left?” FP asked.

 

“Of course she left,” she snapped. “Once I regained enough sense to remember that that farm is a cult, and that they are not going to help me.” She rolled her eyes at the thought, as she pulled out her phone and fired off a furious text message to Fred, wondering why on earth the man had though he and FP could make decisions of this caliber without consulting her. “Surely you don’t want Elizabeth and me to be alone in that house, Forsythe? I mean, you said yourself that you had to scare off reporters on my behalf.” She gave him a calculated look, as she decanted the items she had carried over with her in order to give the ten year old first pick at the cupcakes. “Plus, think of poor Jughead and Fangs.” 

 

“Uh, yeah, Alice,” he mumbled, and she watched him run his hand through his hair. “I guess you’re right. I mean, I don’t like the thought of you living alone. And the kids could probably stand to sleep in actual beds, that does sound like a good thing.” He shrugged. “What do you think, Jellybean?”

 

“It’s JB now,” she sighed, as she carefully examined the cupcakes. Alice had worked hard on them. “I like Betty,” she shrugged. “And they have cable. Do you have a phonograph? I brought all my records with me.” 

 

FP excused himself to go make some coffee.

 

“Yes, but it’s in the basement,” Alice said after a moment, choosing her words carefully. “Your father will have to go get it, and bring it up, or you are welcome to listen down there,” she allowed. “It’s a stereo system.” Harold had spent an ungodly sum of money on the stupid thing, and she was more than willing to allow Forsythia to access it. She scowled at the response from Frederick, who seemed to find her commands to be humorous. Alice Cooper did not do purposeful humor, and Fred  _ knew _ this. Alice Smith might have, but that girl was long gone and hard to find. “You took your records on the bus?” She asked idly, fingers flying as she chastised Fred for skirting his neighborly duties. “How did you get to here from the bus depot?” 

 

“I walked,” she said. “I wanted to surprise Dad and Jughead. Jughead told me he was staying with Fred and Archie.” Children needed boundaries, and Alice sensed that Forsythia would especially need them, but she elected not to pass judgment on her decision to traipse across town in an attempt to surprise her father and brother. She had bigger fish to fry in the dumpster fire that was the general population of Elm Street. Including that embarrassment to the English language that was the ‘October Surprise’. Alice scowled at the pieces of paper that were in front of her. The Register was a paper, not Hermione and Hiram’s private diaries. It was offensive to her journalistic standards that they even thought she would consider allowing the piece’s publication. “Jughead’s not here, though, which is so lame.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Alice queried, and she peered at the preteen. “Shouldn’t he be upstairs? Resting?”   
  


“Dad says that he’s at school,” she said, making fast work of the cupcake she selected. “Can I have another?”   
  


“Yes,” she said, tabling her lecture on good grammar for the moment, as she stalked off into Fred’s kitchen to find FP pondering the man’s coffeemaker, which (dammit, Elizabeth), Alice recognized as one that she had stored away in her hall closet. “Oh for Heaven’s sake,” she sighed. “Where is Frederick’s Mr. Coffee and why has it been replaced by my  _ multimodal _ coffee maker? Back away,” she commanded, and he followed her lead, allowing her to make a fresh pot of coffee. “What on earth are my appliances doing over here?” 

 

“Uh, well, you see,” he said. “Betty said that we could borrow it. After...well, it was my fault. I guess you can’t make ramen in a coffee pot?”

 

“You are not allowed to eat ramen,” she decided. “The sodium contents are much too high for someone in our age group, and there is no nutritional value to be found in such a dish. And, no, you cannot make ramen in a coffee pot, FP! There are directions on the packaging!”

 

“Red asked me if he could,” he said. “Thought it was a thing people did.”

 

“Forsythia tells me that Jughead is at school,” she said through gritted teeth, and her eyes flashed. “Is this not the same Jughead that only was released from the hospital and sent home because they decided you couldn’t afford further treatment for him? Why the hell are you letting him attend that cesspool of teenage morons? Aren’t you afraid of what they could do to him? He’s still healing!” 

 

“What do you think they’d do to him?” 

 

She sighed. “Please tell me that you will keep him and...FP, where is Fangs?” A scan of the downstairs had revealed no signs of life beyond Forsythia, FP, and the ...two mangy mutts that Fred had. 

 

Wait? Two? Alice only recalled Fred inflicting  _ one _ canine companion on the neighborhood, and yet, there were  _ two  _ mongrels plodding into the kitchen, seemingly intent on getting illicit snacks. “What is this?” She demanded, as the sheepdog plodded over to her and sniffed at her shoes. 

 

“Do not tell me that you convinced Fred to add an innocent animal to this frat house in the making?” Vegas had the sense to take one look at Alice and vacate the room.    
  


“Oh, no, that’s Hot Dog,” FP said, his tone casual. “He’s the Serpents’. He’s our initiation task.”

 

“He’s a  _ dog _ not an initiation task!”

 

“To answer your question, Fangs went to school, too. They wanted to go, Al, what was I supposed to do? Tell them they shouldn’t get an education? That seems wrong, even to me.” 

 

“This? This is why you are moving in,” she said, her tone smooth. “That mutt can even accompany you. I don’t care what Jughead and Fangs want. If they think they are going to school while they are still recovering from their injuries, they have another thing coming. And if I have to stay at home and supervise them doing so, that is fine with me. I can work from home.” She smiled, and patted FP on the shoulder. “As for you, do I want to know why you are not at work? Not that I don’t cherish the fact that I don’t have to watch an unaccompanied minor.” 

 

“Got the axe,” he muttered. “Couple weeks ago.” 

 

“I see,” she sighed. “Well, you were better than that, anyways. Has Frederick not offered you your old position back?” 

 

“Don’t see the point, really,” he said. “Veronica is starting a Speakeasy...she’s offered me a job…”

 

“Right. Because that is a wonderful life choice,” Alice snarked. “A sixteen year old girl, running a Speakeasy. Not to mention, why on earth do you think that you should be jeopardizing your recovery for the sake of a paycheck?” She glanced at Forsythia. “I know that you don’t want to work with Fred because of your manly pride, or some sort of ridiculous notions that you are compromising yourself with because you might feel crawling back to the construction firm is beneath you, but, may I be frank?” 

 

“You always are, Alice.”

 

“That ten year old girl took a nine hour bus ride by herself to get here,” she said flatly. “I don’t even want to get in to how dangerous that is, or how much I want to go out to Toledo and give your estranged wife’s parents a piece of my mind, but, suffice to say, we are in a world where you are that young girl’s only choice for a sane, functioning, parent.” Alice wasn’t trying to be cruel. She was just trying to hammer her important talking points home before she gave up and parented Forsythia herself. She may have married a serial killer, but her children would have never been unsupervised on a bus across state lines. “Sometimes, for the sake of the children, we have to do things that we don’t want to do.”

 

The coffee was done. Alice took a break from her lecture, and poured herself a cup. 

 

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll move in with you. For the sake of the kids. And, uh, you’re right about the other stuff. About everything, probably.” 

 

“Thank you, FP,” she said, her tone one of utter politeness. “Would you like a cupcake?” 

 

“I’d make sure there are some left,” he said. “You never know with a Jones kid.”

 

“I made three dozen cupcakes,” she retorted. “Forsythia knows better.” She sipped her coffee. “It’s you I am concerned about.”

 

“You don’t need to be concerned about me, Alice,” he murmured. “I’ll be fine. I always am.” 

 

“I will be the judge of that,” she said. “The next time that something like this happens,” she said. “By which I mean that it better never happen again, but I know you, FP, and you somehow find a way to get yourself and others into situations that confound me…” She sighed. “The next time it happens, you have got to inform me,” she insisted. “Do you really think that Fred can afford to feed and house all of these teenagers? They are not cacti, FP, you do need to feed and water them.”

 

“So, you are feeling better?” 

 

“Yes,” she told him. “I have to say that I would have felt better  _ much _ quicker if I had any inkling of this disaster. When I get my hands on Elizabeth, I’ll…” She smiled at the young girl, who had just walked into the room. “What have you been doing in Toledo, young lady?” 

 

“Staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s while Mom fucks around.”

 

“Forsythia!” FP exclaimed. “What the hell are you talking like that for? Don’t use those words around Alice!”   
  


“Honestly, Forsythe,” Alice remarked. “The child was living in a chop shop. I think I can let her desire for bluntness slide.”

 

“She was drug running, too,” Jellybean divulged. Alice tried to stop her mouth from watering. “She started a branch of the Serpents, and Penny Peabody and her Ghosties, or whatever they’re called, they were doing it with her.” 

 

“What?” FP demanded. “The Ghoulies? The ones who nearly killed your brother?” 

 

“Yeah,” she said. “Mom said that Juggie got in the way, and that the people here agreed with her.” 

 

Alice pushed her joy at the breaking news story being spoon fed to her by Jughead’s younger sister aside, reminding herself that she was being a good person and that good people did not grill ten year olds about their mother’s laundry lists of issues, no matter if they spotted record sales on exclusive editions in their future. They especially didn’t do so when they were her friend’s children. Oh, okay. When they were  _ FP’s _ children. Alice didn’t much mind interrogating the others. 

 

“Jellybean,” Alice said, her voice gentle. “Not everyone in Riverdale thinks that. I don’t want you to take what your mother said to heart.” She sighed. “I feel that this may be a discussion that requires the knowledge of an officer of the law--”   
  


“Hell no!” FP exclaimed. “I’ll let my daughter say whatever the fuck she wants to you, and I don’t care, you go ahead and print that in your paper, but, I’ll be fucked if I let her speak to that piece of shit Sheriff.” 

 

“Why don’t you go watch television?” Alice told the younger girl. “Your father and I have boring business to discuss.”Alice decided she liked Jellybean. The girl knew when to accept a dismissal without mouthing off. It was a refreshing change from...other inhabitants of the house. “Come on, Jonesy. There has to be someplace here we can discuss things.” 

  
  


***

  
  


Some place to discuss things turned out to be what Alice had to assume had been the revolving door that was Mary Andrews’s home office. She doubted very much that Fred had a home office for his construction business, and she doubted even more that Archibald had darkened the room’s door since his mother had abandoned the family. The layer of dust was a sign that pointed to that strong possibility. She pursed her lips. 

 

It was a room with a door, she reminded herself. Reasonably close to where Forsythia was, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. 

 

“I would never use your daughter like that,” she said, her tone clipped. “I promise, she won’t be part of any articles at the Register, no matter what happens to Gladys, or Penny Peabody. I will personally block anything that involves her.”

 

“You would do that?” 

 

“Of course I would. I know that we don’t always get along, and that we’ve screwed each other over, but I would never let Forsythia become a pawn in this war. She’s a child, FP.”   
  


“I screwed up so badly,” he said, and she watched him run his hands down his face. “Fuck, Al. I thought keeping JB in Toledo was the right thing to do for her. I thought that Gladys was really making an effort, or, barring that, her  _ parents _ would be there for her. She really would have been better off with me, while I drank myself to death.” 

 

“You’re not the only one that makes mistakes,” Alice said quietly. “You can start over, it’s not too late. And the way to do that is to make decisions that won’t lead you to fall down the wrong paths,” she pointed out. “I think it’s admirable of Veronica to offer you that job. You know that you can’t be around alcohol like that, though, don’t you?” 

 

“Yeah, Al, I know.” He sighed. “I just wanted to do something right, for once.” 

 

“You do a lot of things right,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been around,” she admitted. “To see you, to check on Jughead. I really feel guilty about that. I should have been there for you.” 

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he said. “I get it. Your husband -- who has been terrorizing the town for months -- tried to kill you, and everyone was making you a target. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave the house, either.”

 

“How did you know about that?”

 

“Betty told me,” FP said, and he glanced up at her. “Something about me being a real man?” He smirked. “You’re a badass, Alice. Not many people would goad their serial killer husbands like that.” 

 

“He’s ruined so many people’s lives,” she whispered, and she blinked back tears. “Poor Midge... and what he did to Fred. Hypocritical asshole.” 

 

FP pulled her into a hug, and she squeezed him tightly, not wanting to let go. Maybe she wasn’t entirely alright, but she felt that she would be eventually, if she had him in her life, whether it was in a relationship, or just as friends. She had missed him  _ so much _ over the years, even though she had been loathe to admit it. Hal wouldn’t have accepted it. 

 

“Yeah, gotta say, Cooper’s a dick,” he murmured. “How are we going to handle this?”

 

“What?”

 

“Us living together,” he said. “I gotta say, Al, I do not want to sleep in the sheets Cooper slept in.” 

 

“I burned them,” she muttered. “Why would you be…? What are you getting at?” 

 

“Look, Al,” he said. “I like you. A whole fuck of a lot. We had a child together. Wouldn’t it just make sense to share a bed?”

 

“You want to...be with me?” 

 

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, if that’s what you want. I wrote you a letter, Al, I really wanted to give it to you. It’s...you’d probably think that it’s stupid.” She stared up at him. “I mean, it’s like...really emotional and whatever.” She noticed his cheeks were bright pink. 

 

“Aw, Jonesy, do you have a crush on me?” She pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

 

“Honestly, Al? I think I love you. And, uh, maybe it’s too soon to like you know start a relationship like that, I mean, but you know I don’t know how many bedrooms you have in the house and you seem to think that Fangs and Jug need--” 

 

“Jonesy, stop, it’s okay,” she insisted. “Perhaps I will be able to sleep in my master suite with you by my side,” she said, as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his lips. “For what it’s worth, I meant what I said,” she told him. “I am done disavowing the Southside, and that extends to disavowing my feelings for you.” She smiled. “I would like to see the letter, though, at some point. I haven’t gotten a love note in a long time.”

 

“Soon,” he murmured. “I promise.” He sighed. “If you really think that the police need to be involved, can you please call Sheriff Keller, and not Minetta? I don’t trust that dickbag around my daughter.” 

 

“Of course, Jonesy,” she said. “I suspect our fair Sheriff is complicit in this, anyways.” She squeezed his shoulders. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I will be.” He kissed her again. “Why’d you come over?” 

 

“Oh, yes,” Alice said. “I needed to speak to Frederick about the October Surprise his little mistress has been planning,” she remembered, scowling as she thought of Hermione’s horrific writing. “An angel of mercy has been stopping it from running in The Register,” she added. “That would be moi.” 

 

“What’s an October Surprise? It’s nowhere near October.”   
  


“It’s...she wants to discredit him,” Alice said. “He’s running on a family values platform, so she and Hiram have decided to ruin him.” 


	2. it's not a change of pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You...sent Hermione a message using your child’s...kitten?”

“I don’t know what that means, Alice,” FP admitted. “Why would...can I see that?”

 

“Why do they want to discredit him?” She questioned, and she raised a brow. “Why do you think? Fred Andrews is real, legitimate, competition for them. He’s being seen as a breath of fresh air, a break from the political mechanism that is Riverdale, unlike Hermione, who is being blatantly used as her husband’s puppet.” She reluctantly handed him the document. “I want to remind you I had nothing to do with this,” she said. “My attack pieces are much more polished.” 

 

“Come here, Alice,” he insisted, and he motioned to his lap with his free hand. It was tempting to concede to sit on him, yes, but what kind of reputation would  _ that _ give her? What would poor Forsythia think if she came in and saw her perched on her father’s lap, like some sort of slattern? “Come on, Allie,” he beckoned. “It’s alright. JB knows.”

 

“What does she know?” Alice demanded. Her tone was weary. “What in God’s name have you been telling her?” Still, she did as he’d requested, and crossed the room to settle on his lap, a squeak leaving her lips as he wrapped an arm around her middle. The typed paper was held at a distance, and she scowled at him, as she realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Are you trying to ruin what little eyesight you have? If so, please do not do so on this.”

 

“Told her that there was a woman I care for,” he murmured, his tone low. “That she was the person I thought I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. That--” It was rude to interrupt, but, Alice did. 

 

“You could spend the rest of your life with me?” 

 

“Yeah, of course,” he answered. “Jesus, this writing is terrible.”

 

“Of course it is,” she sneered. “That’s what Hal is forcing me to deal with due to his inept business decisions.” She rolled her eyes. “Not only is he terrible at serial killing, he couldn’t even have the decency to sell the nitwits the majority ownership of the newspaper.” 

 

“So, what, is Hiram like your bitch, or something?”   
  


“Wouldn’t that be nice?” She mused. “No, unfortunately, Hiram is more a very annoying thorn in my side, who persists in antagonizing me, even though you would think after knowing me his entire, menial, life, he would have learned not to do so.” 

 

“I think this is bullshit,” he told her. “It’s a crock of shit that Fred does what? Kisses Hiram’s precious Mafia wife and goes on some fucked up date with her and Mary to Homecoming? And then Hermione just...she’s okay with using that against him? After he put his neck out for her and hired her on as his damn bookkeeper?” He scoffed. “I wish Whiskers had bitten her.” 

 

“Who, or what, is Whiskers?” Alice asked, her tone one of amusement. “What did you do?”

 

“Hiram, you see, wouldn’t pay us what he owed,” he said, his tone smooth and his breath hot as it tickled the nape of her neck. “So, I may or may not have sent her a...message of sorts. It just so happens that that message...might have at one point been Jellybelly’s pet.” 

 

“You...sent Hermione a message using your child’s...kitten?” 

 

“Whiskers? Nah. She was a snake.” 

 

“FP!” She chastised. “This is terrible! How did you manage to lose your child’s pet snake? Does she even know you did that?” 

 

“I told her Whiskers went to live a good life on the Northside,” he informed her. “Hell if I know what happened to it.” 

 

There were many issues with FP’s statement, not the least the fact that he admitted to not caring what had happened to a  _ snake _ he had unleashed  _ on the Northside of town _ that had happened to belong to his own child. The fact that Jellybean actually had bought this excuse was disappointing to Alice, but, well, she was a child. The fact that the snake had been named Whiskers was oddly endearing to her. It was unfair that Forsythia had lost her pet. 

 

“FP, you should have taken better care of that snake!” Alice chastised. “Poor Whiskers. What an unfortunate fate to meet.” 

 

“I thought she’d be fine!” He protested. “How was I to know ol’ready Freddie was there to ensure his precious Hermione was safe from an  _ innocent _ serpent? Who the hell even knows what he did to her?”

 

She pursed her lips. Fred potentially killing Forsythia’s pet was unacceptable, and Alice would not stand for it. 

 

She turned her head in the direction of the entrance way. Not only were those two mutts  _ staring _ at her and FP as if she had  _ ever _ given either of them the time of day at a prior time, but there was little Forsythia, attempting to spy on them. Some people may have frowned on such behavior, but not Alice. She merely saw a potential protege. 

 

“Forsythia,” she beckoned, and she waved her over with a hand that was in desperate need of a manicure. The preteen obliged, crossing the room towards them, the two canines in tow. “I understand that Whiskers has abandoned her position on the Southside, because the call of the North was temporarily appealing to her little snake heart.” Was Alice milking this? Possibly. She was amused. “Would you like to have a new serpent friend?” 

 

“Are you and Dad gonna pop one out?” 

 

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” she chided. “I was wondering if you wanted another snake.”

 

“You don’t think Whiskers would be mad at me?” 

 

“Of course not,” Alice assured her. “Whiskers would want you to be comfortable in your new home, even if that meant getting a new Whiskers.”

 

“What about you?” Jellybean asked. “It’s your house, isn’t it? Your rules?”   
  


“I want you to be comfortable as well,” she said. “I don’t mind your taste in pets being...on the esoteric side.” 

 

“Okay,” she said. “I’d like that.” 

 

“And you’d like Hot Dog to take up residence as well?” She questioned, as the sheepdog plodded along behind Vegas, and she mentally vowed to take him to the groomers. Just being a sheepdog was no excuse for looking slovenly. 

 

“Can he?” 

 

“Of course,” she said, her tone light. “Whatever makes you feel better. Okay?” 

 

If the things that made Jellybean feel better happened to be things Alice knew would have appalled Hal, well, so be it. 

 

“Okay,” Jellybean said. “Thank you, Alice.” 

 

Alice was surprised when Jellybean wrapped her arms around her in a quick hug, but she did her best to keep said surprise under wraps. It was nice to feel appreciated, and the young girl appreciating her made her happy. 

 

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. “Would you like to be a help?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded. “Whatever you want me to do.”

 

“Do you think you could get together your brother’s and Fangs’ things?” Alice asked. “I don’t want them doing it themselves and risking injury.” She nodded. “Run along, then.” 

 

“You don’t have to do this,” FP told her. “I mean, really, Al, it’s enough that you’re letting us live with you.” She felt him press a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I really do appreciate it, though, I mean, I think it would be good for the kids. Good for us.”

 

“You really don’t mind sharing my bed?” Alice questioned. 

 

“Share your bed, share your life, maybe someday I’ll make you my--no, babe, of course not. I don’t mind at all. Waking up next to a pretty little thing like you?”   
  


“I am a  _ much _ better sight for sore eyes than Fred,” she teased. “Fred and a bunch of teenage boys? Not my idea of a cup of tea.”

 

He chuckled. “You’re amazing.” 

 

“No, you are,” she whispered. “I’ll share your life for as long as you’ll have me.”

  
  



	3. i was the one there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you make my ten year old walk here from the bus depot?” FP’s voice demanded, and Alice turned her head in the direction it came from. “Fred? Did you?”

“Uncle Fred is home,” Jellybean announced, an unorthodox way of announcing her presence for sure, but one that Alice appreciated. It was nice for her to be given advanced warning of those with whom she needed to deal, and she was very grateful indeed that the young girl had granted it to her. “That’s weird, though,” she added. Alice raised a brow. She had sent FP off to pack up his things, otherwise she would have encouraged him parenting Forsythia, but, in his absence...she would do so. 

 

“What is weird?” Alice demanded. “Please elaborate your statement.” 

 

“I mean, I didn’t really know Dad’s new number,” she drawled, as Alice felt a dull throb start behind her temple, wondering what on earth Fred had done to a ten year old who had been in town for less than a day. “But, I knew he was staying here, because he and Juggie told me,” she explained. “Juggie said he was busy at school, so I called the construction company, and Fred told me he was working on his campaign for mayor, and--”   
  


“He decided not to come get you?” Veronica Lodge may have claimed that her specialty was ice, but that was solely due to the fact that she and Acid Queen Alice had not attended school together as contemporaries. Her tone could have cut glass. Jellybean nodded. “This is not acceptable,” Alice hissed. “It’s one thing for Frederick to be busy at work,” she continued. “But, for heaven’s sake, why didn’t he call your father, or myself, for that matter?” She sighed. “Thank you, sweetheart, for telling me.” 

 

“Would you have come to get me?” 

 

“Of course,” she whispered, and she momentarily tabled her irritation at Fred, and pulled Jellybean into a hug. “In a heartbeat. I would have come gotten you in Toledo, even.” 

 

“Grandma and Grandpa wouldn’t let me stay with them until Daddy could come get me,” she said, and she shrugged her shoulders. “They’re mad at him because they think that he’s the reason my mom got caught.”

 

“I’m sorry, honey.” 

 

“It’s okay,” she said. “Not your fault.” 

 

“I don’t understand what was such an emergency that you needed me to come home  _ right away _ for, Alice,” Fred interjected, as he slammed the door behind him, and it took all of Alice’s poise and composure to not jump a mile. “Don’t tell me you’re upset because I let the Serpents move in with me.” 

 

The implication that Alice would be irritated about the Southside Serpents being present on Elm Street irritated the blonde. Was Frederick really so obtuse? To say those things in front of FP’s daughter? Even if they were true (they weren’t) it was not an appropriate topic of conversation.

 

“And why shouldn’t I be?” She demanded, and she stood, crossing her arms in disapproval. “This many people in a house, Fred? It’s a fire hazard. What were you thinking? Teenagers need beds, not sleeping bags on the floor, and this is not a long term housing situation. As block captain of the Neighborhood Watch, I am obligated to be informed of the idiocy of the neighborhood,” she informed him, as Jellybean watched, rather entranced. “All you had to do was ask me for help at  _ any  _ point,” she hissed. “I will be taking my significant other, his children, and Fangs home with me,” she continued. “And I don’t know why you have a mysterious mark on your neck, but perhaps that has some cross-commonalities with poor Forsythia’s walk from the transit station, and this insult to my intellect by one Hermione Lodge.” 

 

Fred blinked, as Alice brandished the sheaf of papers at him. “Read,” she commanded, before smiling sweetly at Jellybean. “Sweetie, would you like another cupcake?” She nodded eagerly. Alice preened. “Please get me one, as well,” she added. “I think that I deserve one, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, Alice,” she said. “What about Uncle Fred?”

 

“I don’t think Fred deserves my baked goods after you had to walk all that way, do you?” 

 

Jellybean shook her head. 

 

“Before you get the cupcakes, darling,” Alice said, her tone sugary sweet. “Perhaps you should go tell your father that fun little tale you told me. I think he’d be  _ very _ interested to know that aspect of your little adventure.” 

 

“You think so?” She echoed. Alice nodded. 

 

“Yes, I do,” she said. “Your father cares about you very much, and probably would also like to know precisely what was so important that he would encourage you to walk all that way, rather than come and get you.” 

 

Was it cruel to provoke FP and let him loose on Fred? Perhaps. But this wasn’t Alice’s house and FP did need to know that Fred had encouraged Forsythia to wander around the town unsupervised -- in the current climate, such behavior was beyond the pale. It was dangerous for a child -- especially one that had no idea what evil lurked in Riverdale -- to be gallivanting around unsupervised. Fred knew better. 

 

“Okay, Alice,” Jellybean said. “I’ll tell him. Are you sure you don’t want your cupcake first?” 

 

“No, sweetheart,” she said, her tone soothing. “Don’t worry about me.”

 

“Maybe Uncle Fred has seen Whiskers?” The young girl questioned, her tone hopeful. “I mean, you and Daddy said she ran away to the Northside, maybe he knows where she is!” 

 

“I haven’t seen your cat, Jellybean,” Fred murmured, his tone sounding rather distracted. Alice frowned at this. “I’m sure that it’s around somewhere.” 

 

“She  _ wasn’t _ a cat,” Jellybean corrected. “She was my pet snake.”

 

“Yes, Frederick,” Alice purred, a mirthful hint to her tone. “Pray tell, have you seen Whiskers? Forsythia is ever so worried,  and as the block captain of our Neighborhood Watch, I am obligated to ask if you have uncovered any missing pet snakes as of late. For neighborhood safety, of course.” 

 

“No one has brought around any snakes, Alice,” he insisted. “Sorry, Jellybean.” 

 

Jellybean scowled. “It’s JB now, how many times do I have to tell people?” She flounced out of the room, and up the stairs, leaving Alice alone with the two mutts and her moronic neighbor. 

 

“Listen to me, and listen good,” she hissed. “You better give me the money for that damn snake that you did God knows what to when you decided to be Hermione’s hero. Did it not occur to you that that snake  _ belonged _ to someone? No, of course not. You just wanted to be a big manly man.” 

 

“She was being threatened!”

 

“Keep your voice down,” she warned. “Haven’t you learned your lesson about helping Hermione? She certainly doesn’t want to help you. She wants to print slanderous articles about you whilst fraternizing with you in questionable manners on the side. Have you lost every last inch of your ability to have sense, Fred? Hermione  _ deserved _ to be threatened by the Serpents, and you were a very  _ stupid _ person to involve yourself with it. And, now, thanks to you, I have to replace that poor child’s pet, because you had to be a damn hero.” 

 

“It was just a--”   
  
“Shut up, Fred, before I print that in a rush edition,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. That was Jellybean’s pet, and whatever you did to it, that was very wrong indeed. It wasn’t ‘just a snake’ to her, and you damn well know it.”

 

“Did you make my ten year old walk here from the bus depot?” FP’s voice demanded, and Alice turned her head in the direction it came from. “Fred? Did you?”   
  


“I was working--”   
  


“Don’t give me that shit,” he snapped. “I would have never done that to you. What the hell, man? She’s ten.”   
  


  
  



	4. last night, you had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s nice to be appreciated,” she said. “I think I may have angered Fred earlier today.”

“Jellybean said it was alright!” Fred exclaimed. Alice bit back a sigh. “I asked her!”

 

“Of course she said that!” She heard herself exclaim, unable to keep quiet. “I don’t care  _ what _ she said to you, or why you in any way thought that leaving a child to walk across town when your idiot paramour and her odious husband are actively turning Riverdale into a crime haven, like we are on a low rate pay cable channel show, but we do not let ten year olds walk through said towns without a care in the world, no matter how preoccupied we may claim to be! But, I mean, why am I even surprised? Do you know what Fred did to Hal’s second victim, FP?”   
  


“Hal’s second victim?” FP questioned. Fred started. “No, what did you do?”   
  


“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. “She left town, and it was handled.”

 

“Fred thought that it was appropriate not to let Tom Keller handle criminally charging a teacher who took advantage of her position of power and engaged in a sexual relationship with his son,” she informed him. “All he cared about was the fact that I thought it was the right thing for people to know that we had a  _ predator _ in our midst. Teaching our children! And this one was all boo hoo hoo heaven forbid my son have to be uncomfortable about something so that justice could actually be served, rather than the hell that Harold considered to be justice.” 

 

“Betty told you not to either!” Fred exclaimed. 

 

“Oh, please, Elizabeth is a teenager,” she snapped. “Of course she was going to tell me that she didn’t want me to do that, she was protecting her friend. That is how teenagers protect their friends. As adults, we have to do things that we perhaps find unappealing, such as allowing the police to be informed when sexual assault of minors occurs, or, barring that, investing in sending our minor child to  _ therapy _ for what happened, if not at that moment, then definitely after what happened to you at that  _ diner _ when you almost died. Do you think that those events didn’t have an effect on his psyche?” 

 

“You are out of line, Alice.”

 

“Am I?” 

 

“Archie said that he was fine! What’s the big deal?”

 

“He lied.” 

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” Alice demanded. “I may not have known my husband was a serial killer, but you would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not notice that  _ something _ is up with Archibald, Fred. But, then again, you are the one who let FP’s ten year old daughter wander around a town she hasn’t lived in for years unsupervised, while you gave Hiram and Hermione more fodder for their  _ embarrassment to the written word _ with your inability to keep things in your--tucked away. Keep things tucked away.”   


Alice did not care that Forsythia had been in inappropriate situations out in Toledo -- she was not about to trample over what little bits of innocence the child had the potential to possess. It was important for her to present herself as wholesome around the girl. She needed some positive influences, even if Alice was forced to be one. 

 

“Jellybean, why did you tell Fred that?” FP questioned. “I would have come and gotten you, if he had bothered to tell me.” 

 

“I didn’t want to bother anyone,” she muttered. “Everyone has their own lives here, and I have to ruin them. Don’t I?”

 

“You’re not ruining anything, Jellybelly,” he said. “Don’t get that idea in your head, okay? I’ve missed you  _ so  _ much. I’m glad that you’re back with me. I just wish that some people in this room had gotten their head out of their ass and acted with a bit of sense.”   


“Are you mad because Alice said I could get a new Whiskers?”

 

“No, I wasn’t talking about Alice,” he said. “I was talking about Fred. Alice can get you whatever the hell she wants to, alright? I trust her.”

 

“I want a  _ bigger _ Whiskers,” Jellybean said. “Like a python.”   
  


“Uh--”

 

“Whatever sized Whiskers you’d like, sweetheart,” she said, her tone businesslike, though she grinned at the thought of borrowing Forsythia’s python as a...subtle intimidation technique. Nothing as gauche as the fate the prior Whiskers had suffered, of course. Alice knew better than to trust either Hermione or Fred with being within arms reach of Jellybean’s new pet. “We will set up a special Whiskers room. Or you can have her in your room, if you’d like.” 

 

See? Alice could be accommodating, if not downright reasonable. It was hogwash for Fred to imply otherwise. 

 

“Are you talking about me?” 

 

“Really? Fred, we have established that he is not talking about me, he’s not talking about himself because he would have used proper English and said ‘gotten my head out of my ass’, the two mongrels have enough sense than you do in their tails, and I  _ highly _ doubt that he is referring to JB. That is, by the way, what she has established that she wishes to be called. Since you have decided that she is adult enough to make decisions that I wouldn’t entrust to our high school aged children, I have decided you can at least refer to her how she has repeatedly requested you to.” Alice scowled. 

 

“Your behavior makes me regret that the Register has no choice but to endorse you for Mayor, because my other option is becoming complicit in organized crime. And, honestly? I’m not certain your hands aren’t tied up in it. At least in your case, I can look the other way.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, really, Fred? Do not play the role of the innocent man here, because I know entirely more about you and yours than either of us wish I did.” She sighed. “Come along, JB. We can go next door and see about setting you up in your new room. I apologize for all of the pink...Polly was particularly fond of it…” Fred gaped. Alice scowled. If all the scowling he was causing her to do gave her frown lines, she was sending  _ him _ the bill. 

 

“Can we paint it black?”

 

Alice cringed. She did not want her home having a black room in it. What a ridiculous concept. “Does it really  _ need _ to be black? Can we not find a compromise?”   
  


“I guess,” she said. “I just don’t like pink.”

 

“I know,” she said. “It’s alright, honey. I don’t expect you to. Are you coming, Jonesy?”   
  


  
  


***

  
  
  


“You don’t have to do this, babe,” FP insisted, as he perched on the edge of Alice’s bed, and watched as she paced back and forth. He patted the spot beside him, hoping that she would stop what she was doing and sit down. “If me being here is stressing you out…”

 

“It’s not you,” Alice said. “It’s the house. I wanted to sell it but no Realtor will touch it, because of what Harold did.”

 

She sank down on the bed beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The truth was that FP was feeling guilty about the fact that he hadn’t been by the house to see Alice: he really  _ had _ wanted to make sure that she was alright, but things had just gotten away from him and the thought of visiting her and potentially unloading them on her had been too much for him to even consider. Why would she have cared about his divorce going through or about the kids all living at Fred’s? Or about Jellybean coming home? Alice had had real problems, with her husband up on murder charges and her crazy daughter coming home with her twins in tow to try to soothe her. He thought he would just be an imposition. Wasn’t that what he always was? 

 

Except that, well, today...today had thrown him for a bit of a loop. 

 

“Screw the bastard,” he told her. “You don’t need to sell the house. We can make it our own. Paint every room black if that’ll help.”

 

“That’s very amusing, honey,” she said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I don’t think that painting every room black would be a good solution, given that Betty already thinks that I have taken leave of every sense I have. Still, I do like the idea of making the house our own,” she admitted. “I apologize for what I almost said in front of JB earlier.’   
  


“What are you talking about? I didn’t have any problem with what you said.” He tugged her closer. “Seemed like the two of you were getting along.” 

 

“I almost told Fred that he needed to learn how to keep his dick in his pants, before I collected myself enough to process that I was saying such things around a  _ literal _ child.” 

 

FP chuckled. “Kind of wish you  _ had _ said it him,” he admitted, and he ran his fingers through her hair. “Alice, you know that I love you, right? You don’t have to worry so much about what you say around my kids. They’re not any worse off if you don’t censor yourself.” 

 

“You really don’t think so?” 

 

“Al, I  _ know _ you,” he said. “I’m not that douchebag that you married who turned everything you hated about yourself and your past into weapons to use against you, you don’t have to pretend around me. I love you, including all of the bullshit that he used to make you feel like you weren’t good enough. You’ve always been good enough for me.” 

 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby.” 

 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” he whispered. “But, honey, you were scared. We were just kids. We fucked up.” 

 

“I wish that we hadn’t,” she said. “God, I regret so much, FP. And now...I’m never going to see my grandchildren ever again, and…”   
  


“Why aren’t you?”

 

“Edgar won’t let her stay if Elizabeth and I don’t join the cult,” she sniffled. “She...just left. I  _ can’t _ join, FP. I can’t.” 

 

“You don’t join, Alice,” he said. “You shut their asses down.” 

 

“How?”   
  


“We can do it together,” he offered. “I’m sure you have some ideas in your pretty blonde head of yours. You always have.” He nuzzled her shoulder. “Whatever you need, babe.”

 

“You promise that you won’t work at the Speakeasy?” Alice asked, her tone soft. “I just...I don’t want you to fall off the wagon because of some job, honey. Please…”   
  


“I promise,” he said. He really hadn’t thought about the whole ...alcohol aspect of working at the Speakeasy. He’d just known he’d needed a job and one had fallen in his lap. “I’ll work with Fred again. I just wanted to be able to provide for my family.” 

 

“I know,” she said. “But, honey, I can help you. Let me help.”   
  


“As long as you let me help you, too,” he whispered. “I really would like to.” He brushed his lips to hers. “I love you, Allie.” 

 

“I love you, too, Jonesy.” She dropped her head on his shoulder. “I think trying to help me would be a full time job in itself,” she said. “But, you’re more than welcomed to try.”

 

“I don’t mind you being a full time job,” he said. “God knows I love you, Alice.” He let out a quiet sigh. “I really appreciate it. What you’re doing for us. For Fangs.” 

 

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” she said. “I think I may have angered Fred earlier today.”

 

“I think that Fred may have  _ definitely _ deserved that.” 

 

“I don’t disagree,” she said. “What the hell was he thinking? Does he have any sense at all?”

 

“At least he didn’t make Hermione pick her up,” he sighed. “That would have been a disaster.” 

 

Alice’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me.” She curled up closer to him. “This feels nice, Jonesy.”

 

“Yeah. It really does, doesn’t it?”


	5. your other friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty decided against telling her mother about the tent city that the teen Serpents had thought up. She didn’t think telling her would be very good for her blood pressure.

“What were you thinking, Elizabeth?” 

 

“What do you mean, Mom?” Betty eyed Alice warily, wondering why her mother looked like she was a feral cat. “Can you clarify your statement?” There were many things that Alice could be lecturing Betty about, and she certainly didn’t want her mother being privy to any of the ones she didn’t know about because she opened her mouth and admitted to them. “You look unhappy.” 

 

“I don’t ‘look’ unhappy, Elizabeth, I  _ am _ unhappy. Why didn’t you tell me that there were teenagers in an inappropriate living situation living at the house next door to us? Were you planning on keeping that a secret from be for an eternity? Did it not occur to you that I might want to  _ help _ them?”   
  


“How did you even find out?”

 

“How did I even find out? How did I even find out? Is that really the tactic you want to take with me? Where are Jughead and the Fogarty boy?” 

 

“They’re planning on going out for a ride on their bikes, why?”

 

“What a  _ great _ idea, Elizabeth. What is wrong with the two of them? If they think that I am letting them careen around town on their motorcycles while one of them is recovering from being shot and the other was practically beaten to death while they are under my roof, they have another thing coming.” 

 

“Under your roof?” Betty echoed, her tone confused. “Why would they be under your roof? They’re living with Archie.” 

 

“Oh, not anymore, they’re not. You want me to move on from what your father did to me, Elizabeth? You don’t want me to go down the path that your sister took? Consider myself moved on.”

 

“I--”

 

“Did you say Jughead was home?” An unfamiliar voice asked, and Betty turned in the direction it came from, her eyes widening at the sight of Jughead’s younger sister, waltzing around her home like she owned the place. “I want to see him, where is he?”

 

“What is Jellybean doing here--”

 

“It’s JB now--”   
  


“He’s outside, JB,” Alice said. “Could you be a dear and bring him and Fangs, I believe it is? Could you bring them inside?”

 

“Okay,” she said. “Can I use my slingshot?”

 

“I think they’ve been injured enough, don’t you?” 

 

“Probably,” the girl agreed. “When can we go get Whiskers?”

 

“Later, JB.” 

 

Betty blinked, watching Jughead’s sister saunter out her front door. “Mom, why is JB here? Shouldn’t she be in Toledo? Or staying next door? With her father?” 

 

“I told you, Elizabeth. I’ve moved on. I’m granting your father his divorce, and I’m testifying against him in his trial. I have also decided to move on in a different way. FP and I are living together now.” Betty gaped. Alice rolled her eyes. “Stop looking at me like that, Elizabeth. This means that you and Jughead will also be living together, as well as that Fogarty boy, and JB. I refuse to entrust any of them to Fred. He is in line for several lectures on poor choices.” 

 

“Because he didn’t tell you Mr. Jones was living next door?” 

 

“It’s the least of his issues,” her mother said dismissively. “As for why JB is here. Her mother has been arrested, and she is in FP’s custody now.” 

 

“So why are you mad at me?”   
  


“Because you didn’t tell me that this had happened, Elizabeth! Were the Serpents supposed to stay at Fred’s indefinitely???” 

 

Betty decided against telling her mother about the tent city that the teen Serpents had thought up. She didn’t think telling her would be very good for her blood pressure. 

 

“Why are you getting JB a cat?” 

 

“I’m not, Elizabeth. I am righting a wrong.” 

 

“Whiskers? That’s not a cat?”

 

“No. Whiskers was a snake.” 

  
  


***

  
  


“I am very disappointed in the two of you,” Alice said, her lips curled into a scowl. “How did you manage to convince your father that you two were fit to return to school? What were the two of you even thinking?” 

 

“We didn’t have a choice, Mrs. Cooper,” the Fogarty boy said, and Alice crossed her arms over her chest and raised her brows at him. “Principal Weatherbee said that once we were released from the hospital we needed to resume our studies, otherwise he’d expel us. I can’t be expelled. My mom will kill me.” 

 

“That is absolutely preposterous,” she said. “Are you telling me that the principal of the high school thinks that that learning environment is conducive to the two of you healing? That threatening to  _ expel  _ teenagers because they were injured by full grown adults is a way of fostering a love for learning?”   
  


“He’s not lying,” Jughead said. “He wants to kick all of the Serpents out of the school, honestly. He thinks that we bring Riverdale High down.” 

 

“Does he? He thinks that it’s acceptable to kick students out of a public school because they belong in a gang? I have news for him. I meant what I said to all of you that day in the classroom, after you saved us from those horrible people. I am  _ done _ disavowing the Southside. And I  _ will _ fight tooth and nail for it. It’s not your fault that you weren’t afforded opportunities in life. You shouldn’t be  _ punished _ because of the tattoos you have or the jacket you wear.”

 

“You don’t have to do that--”   
  


“I’m the adult here, Fangs, I decide what I do and don’t do,” she said. “As a staff member of Riverdale High, I find such behavior reprehensible.” 

 

“What are you gonna do?” 

 

“I’m going to speak to Principal Weatherbee about this,” Alice said after a moment. She felt a tension headache coming on. “Fangs, where are your parents?” 

 

“Dad fucked off to who knows where,” he offered. “Mom...she’s somewhere safe. I think she’s staying in Centerville with my siblings. She’s sick. I don’t want her around here. FP keeps an eye on me. It’s fine.”

 

“I see.” 

 

“Where is my dad?” Jughead demanded. “Jellybean said that we’re staying here? Why is she even home?”

 

“Your father is exhausted. I’ve sent him to bed. Where, coincidentally, the two of you should  _ also _ be. We don’t want to worsen your injuries.” 

 

“Where are we sleeping?” 

 

“Fangs is going to be taking the guest room...as for you, do not make me regret letting you share with Elizabeth, Jughead. I will not be happy if you two give me more grandchildren.”


End file.
